My Detective
by Fluro-Green Skittles
Summary: Raito's plan in the final episode succeeds. However, unbeknownst to Raito, Mikami has left Matsuda alive. Raito decides his idea of a 'goddess' to rule with him was unrealistic and turns to Mikami as an alternative, unaware that his heart belongs to somebody else, and unaware that that somebody isn't dead. Mikami/Matsuda with slight Raito/Mikami (perhaps dub-con, non-explicit). R&R


**This a long and rambling note like always but just humour me alright, I like you guys to know my thought process while writing. So there are a lot of things I probably should be doing right now, and writing incredibly illogical and unrealistic fanfic for Death Note isn't one of them- I'll tell you straight up that I'm not going to be using Japanese terms throughout this or all of those cultural references that hard-core anime fans use. Plus I haven't really got the hang of what's a first name and what's a last name and even though I looked it up I don't think of all characters by their first name or last name so this is going to be a weird mixture and you're all going to deal. I'm not really that into anime (I'm getting there, but this is actually the only anime I've ever watched all the way through, well, this and Howl's Moving Castle in year 6 Japanese, but I don't think that counts...) so sorry if that shows. I didn't like the ending of Death Note (seriously, did anyone?) so obviously I had to write a new one. The main thing that bothered me was that I almost wanted Raito (Light, if you prefer)'s plan to work, except that it meant Matsuda would die. That's stupid, I know, but I liked Matsuda. So anyway, how to save Matsuda? A fluffy fic where Mikami didn't write his name because he was secretly in love with him of course! (This makes perfect sense, just go with it). Apparently I'm not that great at fluffy though and this idea kind of emerged, but I hate dark fics and it was getting dark so I tried to cheer it up a bit and I'm really not sure of the end result (bear in mind, there is no end result yet, I haven't written it, this is just based on the story that passed through my head in fast-forward like whenever I write a fanfic- bear in mind also that it's not really me that writes fan fiction, it's a little creature in my head that I have no control over and I'm not to sure what it looks like but I think it giggles too much and has horns). Getting way off track, point is, this is my remedy to the ending, which doesn't remedy much at all but does allow me to play around with Matsuda a bit and that's always fun!**

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><p>'40'<p>

Raito turned to Near.

'It's my win.' he muttered, a wicked smile gracing his face.

Then it was gone. The smirk, the face, all of it.

Near felt his heart stutter as an immense pain washed over him. He was burning up from the inside, consumed by fire and darkness. Agony ran from his shoulders to his fingertips, exploded in his head and his stomach, wormed its way down to the tips of his toes. He couldn't hear the talking, but he'd seen Raito's mouth moving before his vision blacked out, and was therefore quick to conclude that the silence wasn't natural. There was an eerie calm all around him, soft and silent and terrifying like drowning. His fingernails felt as though the stingers of wasps were being poked beneath them, forcing their way between nail and skin before ripping them off entirely. He was surrounded by heat; a deep, burning heat that seemed never to ebb or to slow- and why in the world wasn't he dead yet? He knew that was what was coming, what was just around the corner. He wasn't some run-of-the-mill imbecile with a hope of cure, clutching onto survival with a will as weak as the water building in his throat. Death was coming, and Near didn't try to fight it. He didn't try to explain it either, and certainly attempted to steer clear of making a pointless analysis of how it could have been avoided. But Near was a genius, and so such thoughts came anyway without his willing or controlling them, climbing forward through the pain.

The notebook was a fake. It was the only possible explanation- or rather, the most logical of the several explanations that popped into his head. Now that he really thought about it, he could have worked that out a while ago, the clues were there in abundance. L would have figured it out. The moment they changed the notes over, L would have known, but L wasn't there. It was up to Near now and he had missed it completely. He had thought his plan so ingenious, while in reality it was terribly flawed. Now he devised a new plan, far to late to carry it out, no good that it could do for him now. He would have found the real notebook- it wouldn't have been too difficult after all, he was already compiling a list of potential locations, and replaced it with a fake. That way they would lose a weapon and he would have the actual Death Note at his disposal. He wouldn't show his hand until the last possible minute, letting Raito believe that he had won and make his un-retractable victory confession. Then Near would have surprised everyone by staying alive, described his plan and won this endless game, earned his title as L, proven himself. As it was, all this was now impossible and Near had let down L's legacy with his failure. It was over. It was Kira's win.

The pain finally bubbled to the surface, pushing through his skin in a billion agonising pinpricks like the sea of plants that turn over the earth in spring. A scream ripped from his vocal chords, mouth opening without his permission and a horrendous sound he'd never made filling the room, heard even through the blood pounding in his ears. Near, who had never raised his voice. Near, who always spoke just above a whisper to retain his calm, pensive facade. Near who stood stony-faced as chaos and uncertainty whirled around him in a hurricane of misinterpretations and dead ends, clinging to his pretence of all-knowing, somehow childlike superiority through the surrounding desperation. Near screamed, screamed like a banshee, as though to make up for all the sound he'd never made, so loud and strong and desperate that his throat would have felt freshly sanded could he feel it beyond the flame consuming him from the inside. Near screamed, and it drowned out Raito's laugh.

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><p>Matsuda watched in terror as his friends began to fall, as well as Near and his detectives. Raito murmured to himself, repeating 'It's my win, I did it, nothing can stop me now' and similar statements over and over before beginning to cackle manically. They were all dead within seconds, except for some reason Near, who was thrashing on the ground in agony for a minute or so before letting out one final blood-curdling, ear-splitting scream, and then silence. All that was going through Matsuda's mind was <em>Why aren't I dead yet? How long until they notice I'm not dead? Can I escape before they change that? <em>but his feet were rooted to the spot.

'I added a little something extra into his cause of death.' Mikami explained in a conspiratorial whisper once Near was finally dead.

Raito grinned at him like a prize student and patted his shoulder for good measure. In turn, Mikami beamed at his 'God' like a puppy patiently waiting for a treat but pleased enough to take the attention itself as reward. Matsuda could practically see his tail wagging. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn't help but let out a quickly stiffed giggle. It was enough. Raito turned around slowly, torturously, and cast his icy gaze on Matsuda. Finally, with the ending of suspense and immersion in a fear like none he'd ever felt, all of his questions poured first- eyes watering and voice trembling.

'Why am I still here? What do you want from me? What's going to happen now? How could you do this? What makes me different? Why am I not dead?!

'That's just what I was wondering...' Raito muttered, glaring accusatorially at Mikami. All eyes were on him but Mikami smiled contentedly, remaining undeterred.

'The other's, they're all dead?' Raito demanded, panic creeping into his tone.

'Yes, yes, they're all dead, nothing to fear. This one will be too, soon.'

He sounded bored, but there was something false about it. As Raito frantically checked the bodies for vital signs, it seemed almost as though Mikami sent Matsuda a wink.

'How though? Or rather, why hasn't that happened yet?'

Mikami's expression turned to one of embarrassment and slight shame, a perfect imitation of a child who had lost the money his parents had lent him. Mikami was a very good actor, stammering over his words like he felt guilty and was afraid of repercussions, his voice low and innocent. Matsuda wasn't sure quite why but he didn't buy it.

'I... um... I tried. I really did, but there was a... that is to say.. part of the.. the doorframe was in the way and I could... I couldn't see how to spell his name. I figured I'd just add it in later, but I... I, um...' here he hung his head, 'I kind of forgot.'

'Just fix it.' sighed Raito, sounding incredibly disappointed.

Mikami took out the note and scribbled something on it slowly, like a necessary chore that he couldn't be bothered to put any effort into. The whole time Matsuda was paralysed, _this is it, this is it, this is it _running over and over in his head as soon as the pen lifted from the paper.

'There,' declared Mikami, 'it's done! ... Did you hear that?' he added, turning to face Matsuda, 'Should have run when you had the chance. It's too late though. No use running now. Look, there's your name, plain as day, right here in the death note!'  
>He held the notebook out to Matsuda triumphantly. The older man didn't really want to look, but curiosity got the better of him and he couldn't help but glance down at the characters scribbled onto the page. After all, he decided, it's almost poetic to die looking down on your name, on the declaration of your own demise. But it wasn't his name that his eyes fell on.<p>

'About 30 seconds now, not long until it's finished...' Mikami whispered to Raito, just loud enough for Matsuda to overhear.

_Fake it! _was scrawled onto the death note in large letters beneath the names of the other detectives. Matsuda's name was nowhere to be seen.

'29, 28, 27, 26, 25...'  
>What did this mean? He wasn't going to die after all? Why would Mikami possibly spare him? Mikami didn't even know him, unlike Raito who after all these year was willing to throw his life away like stepping on an ant.<p>

'24, 23, 22, 21, 20...'

And why didn't he want Raito to know? Raito who he'd do anything to please, who he called God. Why would he possibly go against his orders? What would happen to him if Raito figured it out? More importantly, what would happen to Matsuda?

'19, 18, 17, 16, 15...'  
>How was he supposed to fake it? A heart attack, he supposed. That was easy enough- clutch at his heart, choke a bit, fall to the ground and go still. He certainly hoped that that was all Mikami was asking for, none of the theatrics that Near had put on. Could any of the others be faking it too? But no, he had seen all of their names in the notebook.<p>

'14, 13, 12, 11, 10...'  
>Maybe he could get out of there, just bolt through the door and make a run for it. Mikami had said there was no use running, but he'd also said that Matsuda's name was in the Death Note and it wasn't. But would Mikami leave him alive were he to flee? That all depends why he wanted him alive in the first place. Would Raito let him get away?<p>

'9, 8, 7, 6, 5...'  
>But what was the point of running; of always being scared of them, always hiding, of watching from the sidelines as Kira's reign purged the world of crime? What was the point of never knowing why he was spared? What was the point in any of it now that all the others were dead and Raito had turned against them, revealing himself as an evil that Matsuda could never have imagined. It wasn't just that he was Kira either, which deep down Matsuda wasn't exactly 100% opposed to, but it was the way he'd lied to them all, manipulated them. It was the way that they were nothing but his pawns. Everyone he knew was just a stone figurine to move around a chess board and when they grew inutile they were put forward for sacrifice to further his cause and feed his obsession. There was no point in running anymore, no point in opposing them. There was nothing left to fight for.<p>

'4, 3, 2, 1, 0!  
>By the time Mikami reached 0, Matsuda was already on the cold, stone floor, holding his breath to turn his face red and pressing a hand tightly to his chest. He thrashed around a little and ended with a shuddering, frail gasp before going still. Raito laughed again and clapped his hands like a child. He seemed to have forgotten his temporary anger at Mikami and now he was happy to share his joy, pulling the older man- in effect his disciple, into a tight hug.<p>

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><p>Matsuda saw all this through half-closed eyes and tried to keep up the appearance of being dead. It didn't really matter. Nobody was watching him in any case. Raito pulled back from the hug and smiled at Mikami.<p>

'There's something I wanted to discuss with you.' he murmured.

He sounded almost shy. In that moment, Matsuda could clearly see the boy at about 15, when Matsuda himself was fresh out of university and new at the police station. Raito used to come to visit his father at the police station sometimes. He'd bring him his lunch and ask about all the new cases and then listen with rapt attention as his father explained anything that the public was allowed to know and sometimes even things that they weren't. Then he'd set himself up at an empty desk in the corner and work dutifully on his homework and his father would watch him, chest swelling with pride.

Raito had been a sweet little boy who had grown into a promising young man. Matsuda wondered where that boy had gone to, when he'd given way to this cold-hearted monster. He wondered when Raito's idealist views and complex plans had pushed out his compassion, his sense of reason, his love. Because Raito did love once, his friends and his family, and that had been lost somewhere along the way to obsession and power and greed. Now, as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming nervous, Matsuda saw 15-year-old Raito somewhere behind it all. Mikami nodded for him to continue.

'You see, every God needs a Goddess...' be began, sounding a lot less sure of himself than when he made the same speech to Kiyomi, 'and Misa was a girlfriend I took out of necessity. I didn't want her ruling by my side, and so I had to find someone else. I thought Kiyomi would be better, someone who seemed to have half a brain at least and followed instructions without question, but she got herself caught and died crying pathetically into her phone. They're all like that, every woman I meet, stupid and emotional and too caught up in their own ideas. To be honest, I kind of thought that if I waited long enough then I'd fall on love with one of them and that would make it easier, but it doesn't seem to have happened and I'm getting sick of it. What I'm trying to say is that maybe it's not a Goddess I'm looking for after all, maybe it's something else... Would you, well, could you, um... I mean...I want you to rule the world with me!'

At this, he placed a hand on Mikami's cheek and leant in towards him until their foreheads almost touched.

'Would you do me that honour?'

Mikami nodded robotically.

'Of course, God.'

'Then perhaps we should discuss this somewhere a little less dull.' he replied, his demeanor changing once again as he rolled his eyes at the concrete warehouse with its floor covered in bodies and led a hesitant Mikami out by the hand.

A tiny scrap of paper fluttered from Mikami's fist on his other side and landed beside Matsuda's ears, which had gone a little red with what he had just witnessed. Once the two were out of sight, he waited at least five minutes before opening it, lest they return. Once he was sure he was alone, or at least the only one living, he reached over, not daring to get up, and unfolded the paper.

It was a corner ripped off from a page in the Death Note. In the centre, he had jotted the following message:

_M,  
>Wait for me, I'm coming back!<br>-M_


End file.
